


That Don't Impress Me Much

by kennagirl



Category: Glee
Genre: Challenges, Charity Auctions, Dating, Denial of Feelings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:12:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennagirl/pseuds/kennagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt was overjoyed that a man beat out all those desperate girls (and Rachel) to buy his date auction package. That is, until Sebastian Smythe walked up saying he couldn’t wait to see how bad it would be. Convinced Sebastian wouldn't know a good date if it slushied him in the face, Kurt challenges him to do better. Pretty soon, they’re seeing each other every week, trying to prove who can come up with the best date. But they’re not dating or anything. No, they’re just two guys who sometimes like each other going out and getting to know each other and getting more and more tempted to kiss...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Everyone's Talking About

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Kurtbastian Big Bang](http://kurtbastianbang.livejournal.com) over at livejournal.
> 
> You can find the amazing art done by the fabulous soseinen [here!](http://soseinen.tumblr.com/tagged/tdimm)

“I can see the way, I see the way you look at me,” rang out over the speakers backstage as Kurt straightened his tie. He rolled his eyes, wondering why exactly they were playing this Avril Lavigne song given the upcoming festivities, but he figured it got the audience excited. Signing up for a date auction was not what he planned to do with his Saturday, but Rachel’s Jewish Students’ Association had been short on guys for the charity event and didn’t really care where they got them from. She’d conned Brody into it too, and he was two mirrors down from Kurt, using a lint roller. The romantic attraction had fizzled over the spring semester and he was now good friends with both of them and a constant visitor in their warehouse.

Speak of the devil, Rachel slipped through the curtain that formed the back wall of the makeshift stage. “Hey,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the music. Technically she was working the event too, but as a plant in the audience to fluff up bids. They’d already had enough girls sign up to be bachelorettes for auction, and Rachel claimed this gave her acting skills more exercise than standing on a stage and smiling.

“Hi,” he said, smoothing the last few hairs into place. “You remember the deal, right?”

“Only guys, or girls that I know for a fact aren’t vicious harpies, can win your date,” she repeated obediently. “I know, I remember. And thank you again for doing this.”

“Why didn’t I get a deal? All I got was a box of cookies,” Brody pouted from his station.

“Because Dinah from my Italian opera class has been putting out feelers for months and when she heard you were thinking of participating, she begged me to make sure, then told every girl she could find to back off because she was taking you home.” Brody’s eyes widened and he stared at Rachel like he couldn’t believe she would let this happen. “Stop worrying. She’s not crazy, just determined. She’s actually very sweet.” When he didn’t seem reassured, she moved toward him and reminded him, “It’s only one date. It won’t kill you. Besides, if she does turn into a stalker, we have all her info and can turn her in to the NYPD.”

“This isn’t making me feel better, Rach.”

She straightened his lapels. “Then I’ll appeal to your shallow side and tell you she can put her leg behind her head and doesn’t like wearing bras.”

He smiled lasciviously at that, making both Kurt and Rachel roll their eyes at him. “Yes, yes, take her to dinner and on a walk in Central Park and when you suggest a carousel ride, take her up on the offer of a different kind of ride.”

A year ago, Kurt would have choked at those words coming out of Rachel Berry’s mouth, but it was a tribute to how much had changed that he didn’t even blink. Her short-lived relationship with Brody and her ongoing rivalry with Cassie had done wonders for boosting her confidence in certain areas. Kurt had rebuilt his own confidence going toe-to-toe with stubborn fashion folk trying to get ahold of Isabelle and dating his way through a number of perfectly nice but ultimately not right men. He had been dating a nice boy named Brian in July, but that fell apart in the face of the work rush to get the August issue to press. He wasn’t about to sit around and wait for Blaine either, especially since his ex had taken a full scholarship to a school in California. Neither of them were foolish enough to think a newly rekindled relationship could survive that distance, so they decided not to push it and simply salvage their friendship instead.

“Now that Brody’s okay with his inevitable date,” Rachel turned back around, “I promise I will do my best. I have our collective emergency fund to cover everything if I end up buying you, I’ve asked some of the other girls to talk you down to the less savory members of the crowd, and at least one of the guys is going to bid on you to make it clear that avenue is open.”

“You’re amazing.”

“I know.” A bell rang and Rachel kissed his cheek, before giving Brody the same quick treatment. “I’ve gotta get out there now. Good luck to both of you. Remember, it’s all for charity!”

She ducked out through the curtain as the girls backstage started lining up to enter. The pre-show music gave way to some stereotypical intro music as the two hosts burst onto the stage.

“Hello, and welcome to the Annual Jewish Students’ Association Charity Date Auction!” a girl announced to loud cheers. “I’m Ashlinn, and this is Simon, and we’ll be your hosts for the evening.”

“Just a reminder before we get started,” Simon said, “this is an inclusive date auction and LGBTQ-friendly. So don’t be afraid to bid on the date and not the person. All the money is going to the same place, so ladies, if you really want two tickets to the Jets versus Patriots game, go ahead and outbid some of these guys standing around.”

Some giggles rippled through the crowd, and Kurt heard one guy yell, “Fat chance, those tickets are mine!” A few more laughs and Ashlinn took over again.

“Well, let’s get the party started! Ladies first, if you please…”

One by one, the girls backstage filed out front to provide some background eye candy before getting called up to tell about their date. The first girl had an hour-long bakery sampling followed by a double feature at one of the movie theaters that ran classics. That one went for a fair price and the auction went on.

A picnic lunch sold for a low price, but from the noise of the audience, it was the girl’s boyfriend that bought it. The girl with the Jets tickets did in fact end up being bought by another girl, probably for more than the price of the tickets, but it was worth it for the grumblings of the men in the audience. A night with both a carriage ride and a mini shopping spree through a toy store got a fierce bidding war between two boys as they topped each other in increments of five. One by one, the girls’ dates were sold and before too long, all twenty had come and gone.

“And now let’s get our handsome gentlemen out here!”

They had lined up by when they submitted a bio, meaning Kurt, as a last-minute fill-in, was last in line. Even Brody was three people ahead of him, as he’d been far more willing to go on the meat market. After a brief introduction of the first bachelor and a description of his date (tour of Chinatown’s shops and restaurants), the women began bidding.

Kurt zoned out, only paying enough attention to clap at a sale and keep a smile on his face. It’s not that he had a problem going on this date with a girl. He designed something that could be an actual date or something he could do with a friend. He ran it by Rachel, Brody, Blaine, even Finn to make sure that it kept a degree of ambiguity that could become something specific depending on who won the package.

“Next up, we have Brody Weston.” Kurt glanced up as Brody stepped forward, waving and smiling brightly. “Brody is a senior by way of Missoula, Montana. He’s offering up a delightful dinner at Sardi’s followed by a walk through Central Park and a chance to see where the night takes you.” Some of the girls giggled and Kurt barely kept from rolling his eyes at the incredibly cheesy description of the offering. Out of ideas, he had asked Rachel about the best New York date she’d ever been on, and modified what she told him. “Starting bid is thirty dollars.”

“Forty!” cried one girl from the center of the room.

“Forty-five!” And there was Rachel, doing her job at one-upping.

“Fifty!” came from the left.

“Fifty-five!”

“Sixty!”

“Sixty-five!”

“One hundred!” This was from a girl in the second row, who was smiling at Brody like the cat who got the cream. This had to be the Dinah that Rachel was talking about.

“One ten!” Rachel had apparently decided to force this girl’s desire to make more for whichever charity they had ended up choosing.

“One fifteen.”

“One twenty!”

“One twenty-five.”

Ashlinn looked back to where Rachel had been sitting and heard nothing. “One twenty-five once… one twenty-five twice… SOLD for one twenty-five to the girl in the second row. Please head to the table on your left and collect your gentleman there.” Dinah smiled at Brody again and he flashed a grin back, heading down the steps to meet her at the table stage right. Kurt clapped politely as the next boy, who reminded him of Joe without the dreads, stepped forward. He and the next two sold fairly quickly, and then it was Kurt left alone on the stage.

“Alright, last but not least,” Simon enthused, “we have Mr. Kurt Hummel. Kurt is a sophomore from Lima, Ohio, and he’s offering up a treat that I wouldn’t mind bidding on myself.” He winked at Kurt and Kurt blew a little kiss back at him, causing the audience to laugh. He’d met Simon during his first class at NYADA and the boy had taken him out within the week. Neither one had felt a spark, so they stuck with being classmates, albeit ones who made out once when they were bored and a little drunk at a house party.

“Kurt will use his own kitchen to make the meal of your choosing, which if his cooking is anywhere near his cake-baking skills, will be amazing, as my fellow JSA members know.” A murmur of assent rolled through the audience from the people who had sampled his baking. “This will be followed by front-row seats to one of the finest classic musicals off-Broadway now, _The Fantasticks_.” A few more murmurs, this time of excitement. “Now, these tickets are already purchased for a week from today, and non-refundable, so keep that in mind when we start the bidding at—”

“Sixty dollars!” Kurt raised his eyebrows slightly, as he was pretty sure his starting bid was supposed to match Brody’s, but kept smiling.

“Sixty-five!”

“Seventy!” Rachel was still looking out for him.

“Seventy-five!”

“Three hundred.”

A voice, definitely male, called from the back of the room. Kurt couldn’t see who it was, but upping the bid that much seemed to be an effective way of shutting all the girls up. He really hoped Rachel didn’t try to bump it up because if a guy was that interested in buying his date, he was going to let it happen.

When no one else bid, Simon called out “Going once… twice… SOLD for three hundred to the gentleman in the back. Please come forward to pay the bill and collect your beautiful prize.” Kurt swatted good-naturedly at Simon, who in turn pinched his arm, as he went down the steps to the side table, but kept smiling. He barely listened to the wrap-up Ashlinn and Simon were delivering, although he caught that the total came to just over five thousand dollars for the evening, the second-highest they’d ever raised.

First he saw the top of a hairdo heading over to the table, which meant this man was both tall and wore his hair that way. Then he caught a flash of stripes between two girls, most likely the guy’s shirt. He glanced over his shoulder when the music flared up again and saw Simon bowing his way off stage while Ashlinn curtsied and followed. He started clapping automatically once again. With the music rising in volume, he barely heard the voice speaking over the sound.

“Well, well, Kurt Hummel. I can’t wait to see how bad this date is going to be.”


	2. I Got Chills

Kurt groaned. Even if he hadn’t recognized that voice calmly calling out a price, he’d know that smarmy tone anywhere. 

“Sebastian Smythe. To what do I owe the displeasure?” 

“I believe I just bought your little date package for a good amount of money and I’d like to pay for it.” 

“Of course you did.” Kurt laughed without humor. “Any particular reason you picked mine?” 

“Maybe I want to see that play you bought tickets for. Or maybe I just like the idea of you cooking for me.” 

“You would.” 

“Sir.” The two students running the payment table were watching with interest. “Are you ready to pay?” 

“Absolutely,” Sebastian grinned. 

“We just need a credit card and your student ID.” 

His grin faltered slightly. “It doesn’t have to be a NYADA card, right? Because I’m at NYU.” 

“That’s fine. It’s just a safety measure.” Sebastian fished out his student ID alongside a credit card. “Besides, it seems like you two already know each other, which is about as safe as it can get.” 

“Don’t worry, he won’t kill me in an alley somewhere,” Kurt assured them. “Annoy the hell out of me until I consider murdering him myself, sure, but he’s not actually dangerous.” 

“Your confidence in me is astounding,” Sebastian muttered as he signed the receipt. 

“Just telling the truth.” 

He smirked. “And now you belong to me.” 

“Only for next Saturday. And only from the beginning of dinner until the play is over.” 

“Already you’re giving me a horrible date. No chance of getting lucky after? Unless,” he leered, “you’re gonna let me get lucky in between.” 

“In your dreams, Smythe.” 

“More like my nightmares.” 

Kurt was kept from making a witty retort (which he hadn’t quite formed) by Rachel sneaking up behind him and throwing her arms around his shoulders. 

“So where is this guy that blew all the girls out of the water?” 

Sebastian smiled. “Do my eyes and ears deceive me? Is that Rachel Berry hiding behind you?”

She looked up and made eye contact with the boy at the table. “Sebastian Smythe? Really?” 

“I’m as shocked as you.” 

Rachel contemplated Sebastian for a moment, then turned to Kurt and said, “Why don’t you two exchange numbers and the important info so we can collect Brody from Dinah’s clutches and go to dinner?” 

“That sounds good,” Kurt said before Sebastian could say anything else. He grabbed Rachel’s purse where he had stashed his phone to keep it from ruining the line of his pant leg. He switched phones with Sebastian and put his number in before passing it back. “Text me when you decide what you want for dinner and I’ll text you my address and subway directions.” 

“I’ll take a cab.” 

“Trust me, you’ll want the subway. You’ll spend your entire trust fund trying to get to our place if you take a cab.” 

“Well, thank you for that advice, but I am plenty capable of making my own decisions.” He smiled. “I will see you in a week, Kurt.” 

“See you, Sebastian,” Kurt called as he disappeared into the crowd. He watched Sebastian leave until he felt Rachel tugging on his arm. 

He turned to see her looking at him expectantly. “Seriously, we probably need to get Brody. Dinah’s sweet, but she’s most likely a little overwhelmed right now, which means she’s probably coming on too strong and scaring him a little bit.” 

“How strong?” 

“Do you remember our first New Directions rehearsal when Finn and I sang You’re the One That I Want?” Kurt’s eyes widened and he nodded. “She could make that look sane.” 

“Let’s go give him an out at least.” 

When they got there, Dinah was moony-eyed and Brody looked slightly uncomfortable, but mostly enjoying the situation. Rachel tugged the other girl aside and explained their regular dinner plans while Kurt grabbed Brody and initiated a discussion about nothing in particular that would take them to the door of the rented hall. Rachel met them there a minute later and the three of them headed down the street to Maria’s, a little diner they’d found near campus. The prices were student-friendly, the staff was sweet, and the food was excellent. 

“So,” Brody began, pouring ketchup onto his burger, “Dinah seems like a very nice girl with a bit of a schoolgirl crush on me. I’m actually looking forward to our date after she’s mellowed out a bit over winning me.” He took a bite and turned to Kurt. “How’s Mr. Three Hundred?” 

“The biggest ass that ever lived.” Brody made a questioning face and gestured with a fry for him to explain. “We met Sebastian Smythe senior year. He tried to steal my boyfriend, temporarily blinded said boyfriend, and faked pictures of Finn wearing nothing but red pumps with intent to distribute online in order to blackmail Rachel into dropping out of Regionals. And that’s just what he did on purpose.” 

“What did he do on accident?” 

Before she could open her mouth, Kurt shot Rachel a look. “I’d rather not get into the specifics, because it’s not our story to tell. But after that incident, he claimed he was turning over a new leaf. I haven’t spoken to him since that claim, so I don’t know how true he’s been.” 

Rachel spoke up from over her portobello burger. “Maybe that’s what he’s trying to do. Get to know Kurt Hummel as Sebastian Smythe, two New York City adults with no boyfriends to steal or show choir drama getting in the way.” 

Kurt picked at his chicken sandwich, obviously pouting. “But every time I look at him, I still see a stupid, smirky meerkat with CW hair.” 

Brody snorted. “And he probably still sees all the bad things he said about you,” Rachel reminded him over the noise, “but at least he’s trying.” 

“If he really wanted to try,” Kurt said, “he could have messaged me on Facebook and taken me out for coffee, not paid a charity three hundred dollars to make me cook whatever he wants.” 

“It’s something,” she said. “Instead of the bad, which is in the past by the way, focus on the fact that you have a date in a week with a good-looking guy. Yes, I said he’s good-looking.” She had caught the look on his face. “I don’t like him much either, but I can admit that.” 

“Okay, so maybe he knows how to work the CW hair to his advantage, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that both times now that I’ve seen in him something other than a Dalton uniform, it’s been striped rugby shirts.” He paused. “Come to think of it, I think the shirt he wore today is the same one he wore to Scandals.” 

“Scandals?” Brody asked, fry halfway to his mouth. 

“The gay bar in west Lima." 

“I thought you said I took you to your first gay bar." 

Kurt thought back to the night a few weeks before his last birthday when Brody had offered to escort him to a building full of sweaty boys, alcohol, and techno music. He’d been an excellent club buddy, always making sure Kurt was safe, but that scene wasn’t for him. “You took me to my first gay club. Scandals was a hole in the wall with lax bartending and bouncer services. We went on Drag Queen Wednesday. That should tell you something right there." 

He nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but Rachel cut across. “Lack of fashion imagination aside, you still have to go out with him in a week." 

Kurt seriously considered sliding his sandwich over and dropping his head onto the table to whine, “Do I have to?”

“Yes, now eat your sandwich.”


	3. Take Away the Sense of Drama

The week passed quickly. Kurt’s perfunctory text about what Sebastian wanted for lunch was answered with a simple, “Impress me.” The next one about their address and which subway line would be the most reliable to get there went unanswered. Thankfully, Sebastian did provide a short list of allergies when asked, especially since he claimed to be allergic to mushrooms, a key ingredient in Kurt’s first menu. He scrapped it and took a different approach, one that would hopefully appeal to Sebastian’s taste and not endanger Sebastian’s life. 

If Kurt sent Sebastian to the hospital on this date, it would be because he punched him so hard, Sebastian got a concussion, not because of anything Kurt cooked. 

Rachel sat down and flipped through all Kurt’s recipes with him, dissuading him from ones that looked like he was trying too hard and those he hadn’t completely mastered yet. They ended up creating a solid seafood dinner: shrimp appetizer, baked catfish that would melt in his mouth coupled with a vegetable medley, and a decadent triple chocolate cake for dessert, his mom’s recipe. 

Angel that she sometimes was, Rachel also offered to clean up the apartment while Kurt got everything else ready, then cleared out for a study session with Brody for her history of theatre class (he had kept his old tests and was letting her study from them). 

He was just pulling the shrimp off of the stove and draining them when he heard a knock on the metal door. Kurt turned the burner off and gave the vegetables a quick stir to keep them from sitting too long and scorching. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and smoothed a few hairs that had flown free while he worked. No way was he meeting Sebastian Smythe at his front door any less than perfectly put together. 

The door slid smoothly to the side, a product of Kurt’s regular efforts to keep the track greased, and Sebastian stood on the other side, sporting a decent pair of slacks and an open blazer, mouth set in a familiar smirk that seemed friendlier than in the past. “Kurt,” he said, dipping his head slightly. 

“Sebastian,” Kurt returned, stepping aside to let Sebastian into the apartment. “The food will be ready in a few minutes. Hope you like seafood.” 

“Everything but salmon,” he commented. His eyes were scanning over the shelves in the middle of the living area. “Something about it just doesn’t quite taste right to me.” 

“No salmon today.” Kurt continued stirring the vegetables, then took them off the burner and put a lid on them to keep warm. As much as he didn’t want to make conversation, it would be rude to make his “date” eat alone while Kurt kept cooking. He spooned the rice that had been setting on the side onto a plate and grabbed the shrimp, settling them on the bed he had just made. A small bowl of cocktail sauce was placed on the side. “Bon appétit.” 

Sebastian stopped running his fingers over the books carefully stacked on the shelves and turned toward the table. “If this is supposed to impress me,” he said, quirking an eyebrow, “you have sorely underestimated my tastes.” 

“It’s a starter, Sebastian,” Kurt sighed. “The entrée isn’t done baking yet, because I thought I’d start with an appetizer. Unless you’d rather skip the shrimp and go hungry for a little while longer…” he threatened, lifting the plate from where he’d set it on the table and turning to the trashcan. He wouldn’t actually throw it out, probably set it on the fire escape so one of the stray cats could have a good meal since it wouldn’t reheat. But Sebastian made a noise of dissent and Kurt spun on his heel to replace the plate. He pulled out his own chair and sat down, gesturing for Sebastian to sit across from him. 

Sebastian swiped one of the shrimp off the plate and tugged it towards him as he sat down. “So where’s yours?” 

Tugging the dish back toward the center of the table, Kurt snagged his own crustacean. “I thought we might be able to be civilized and share, especially since it’s not enough to put on two separate plates and I have to do the dishes later.” 

“Kurt Hummel is being lazy? Never thought I’d see the day.” 

“This isn’t being lazy, this is thinking ahead,” Kurt quipped. “Lazy is eating macaroni and cheese right out of the pot it was cooked in.” 

“And how often do you do that?” 

“I never said I did, but Finn and Sam have some bad habits.” 

“Oh sure,” Sebastian said, waving a shrimp around. “Blame the stepbrother and the… which one was Sam again?” 

“Extremely dyed blonde, swooshy hair. Larger than average mouth.” 

“Blonde hair, big mouth…” Sebastian pondered as Kurt snagged a pair of forks from the silverware drawer so they could actually eat the rice. “You mean DSL?” 

“DSL?” 

“Dick-Sucking Lips.” 

Kurt choked on a bite of rice. “Excuse me?” 

Sebastian kept eating calmly, munching on his third shrimp and eyeing the one that should have been Kurt’s still resting on the plate. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. He has a mouth made for sucking cock.” 

Grabbing the last shrimp before Sebastian could try to steal it, Kurt dunked it in the cocktail sauce and took a bite, thinking about how to answer truthfully without giving Sebastian the satisfaction. “Old crushes notwithstanding, I try not to think about the boys I consider brothers in that way.” 

“The boys? There’s another brotherly ex-crush?” 

“You know, I think the fish is almost done,” Kurt said, getting up from the table and taking the plate of rice with him. He realized it was a poor attempt at deflection, but he hoped Sebastian would take the hint. 

“So that’s how you want to play it. Fine. I’ll figure it out myself.” No dice. “I’m gonna drop the Irish since you didn’t know him very long. Wheelchair and the Rastafarian don’t seem like your type. Blaine’s out and we already talked about DSL.” He tapped a finger against his lips while Kurt pulled the fish from the oven. “So we’ve got Muscles Magee and Gumby, assuming it’s not someone who transferred out before I met you.” 

“Do you have nicknames for everyone in New Directions?” Kurt mused. 

“My money is on the Asian,” Sebastian continued as though Kurt hadn’t spoken. “Mohawk just doesn’t strike me as the brotherly type, although I could see where you might crush on him, especially if you’re into being manhandled.” 

“Puck is an excellent brother,” Kurt felt the need to assert. “Anyone who’s seen him with his little sister Sarah knows that.” 

“But he’s not a brother to you.” 

“He calls me one of his boys,” Kurt said, spooning vegetables onto the plates. “I don’t know how that factors into the whole ‘bro’ thing. I don’t speak dude.” 

“I never had many bros myself. Plus, most of my boys were of the toy variety.” He leered appropriately. 

“How amusing.” Kurt set the plates on the table and sat down. “But no, as good as Puck and I are now, there has never been and will never be a crush. Appreciation of a man built like a Greek god, absolutely. However, he went from the boy who tossed me in the dumpster to the one who held his finger a centimeter from my face saying ‘I’m not touching you’ with little in between. To paraphrase what he said at our graduation party, I love him, no homo.” 

Sebastian’s mouth hung open. “As soon as my brain reconciles the fact that Kurt Hummel said ‘no homo,’ I’ll be sure to gloat that I was right in picking Tiny Dancer.” 

“I didn’t say that.” He picked up his fork and stabbed a few pieces of zucchini. “Mike and I are friends, but we’ve never been that close.” 

“There’s no one left except…” Sebastian’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. Kurt felt his cheeks heat up from the blush he knew was there. “So was the crush before or after the wedding?” 

“Long before, thank you very much,” Kurt snapped. “By the time Dad and Carole walked down the aisle, it had died a rather violent death.” 

“Why?” 

“Let’s just say that the first time we all tried living together, everything blew up in our faces.” 

“No, why the Jolly Green Giant? I thought you had better taste than that.” 

“When you’re the gay kid and get picked on every day of your life, the cute guy who’s kind of nice to you sometimes is pretty much your type.” Kurt didn’t want to get into the specifics with Sebastian. He didn’t want to be seen as weak. 

“How do you mean?” Sebastian pushed. 

“How about you shut up and eat your dinner? I worked very hard on this and I’d hate to see it go onto the fire escape for the stray cats to eat.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Yes, mother.” 

They ate in silence for a while. Sebastian devoured his fish, but picked through the vegetables. Zucchini and carrots disappeared, but the pile of squash stayed on his plate. Kurt eyed it, and once it became clear Sebastian was not going to eat it, he snagged the dish and scraped the yellow vegetables onto his own. Sebastian cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh please, help yourself to my dinner.” 

“You weren’t eating it and I’m not letting any of this go to waste.” He scooped up a few pieces. “Why, do you want it back?” 

“God, no. You can have it. I hate squash.” 

“You don’t like squash, you don’t like salmon, you’re allergic to mushrooms. Do you eat anything good?” 

“I’m seeing what looks like some kind of chocolate cake over there,” he said, pointing to the counter, “and unless this is cruel and unusual punishment, I get to eat that, right?” 

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re just some kind of oversexualized ten-year-old.” 

“As long as I get cake.” 

Kurt couldn’t help himself from rolling his eyes as he stood, taking the plates to the sink. Sebastian just sipped from his water glass, tracking his movements across the tiny kitchen area. A knife came out of the draw and Kurt sliced the cake into large squares, gently lifting them out of the pan and setting them on small plates. It wasn’t the most physically attractive cake, but Kurt’s mouth was watering from how rich he knew it was. 

As much as he wanted to dig in right away, Kurt waited a moment to see Sebastian’s reaction. As excited as he was over the prospect of chocolate cake, the moment of truth would most likely be worth it. 

He wasn’t disappointed. Sebastian gave the chocolate chips on top a skeptical look, but quickly cut a corner with his fork and stuck it in his mouth. 

In any other context, the moan might have been called pornographic. 

“That guy wasn’t kidding, was he?” Sebastian mumbled around the bite. “I would put out for this cake.” 

“You would put out for a wink and a drink.” 

“I would put out to you for this cake. Hell, I might put out to a girl for this cake.” 

“Good to know my baking skills live up to their reputation,” Kurt said, taking a smaller bite. “Now eat. We do have a show time to make and there’s no telling when and where the subway might break down.” 

After Sebastian tried to kidnap half the cake to take with him (Kurt refused to walk into a theatrical performance with a bag of food and they didn’t have time to stop at the dorms to drop it off, so it stayed on the counter while Sebastian pouted slightly), they headed out. Sebastian tried to flag a cab, but Kurt just walked to the closest metro stop. The ride was mostly quiet, with the occasional small talk to keep it from feeling uncomfortable. The easy conversation they’d had in the apartment was gone, replaced with some kind of formality. 

“So what kind of play is this anyway?” Sebastian asked on their short walk down 14th street from one line to another. 

“You didn’t even bother to find out anything about the show?” 

“Why would it matter? You already bought the tickets, the decision was made before I shelled out three hundred dollars for them.” 

Even though Sebastian had a point, that kind of thinking wasn’t something Kurt was used to. “I just thought you would have looked it up and brought an iPod to listen to if it didn’t sound appealing.”

“Maybe I just wanted the full Kurt Hummel Date Experience.” He winked. “Plus, I thought about it, and decided I didn’t want to listen to your shrieking if I tried to disrespect some Broadway classic.” 

They were quiet as they entered the station. “I don’t know if I should be offended or thankful.” 

“Be both. I meant it both ways.” 

With that, their banter picked up again, with Sebastian a little sharper than he had been earlier. Kurt thought he might have been pulling his punches a little while on Kurt’s turf, but out on neutral ground, he was more relaxed and letting his more acidic side show. Not that Kurt minded: he was giving as good as he got. The last leg of the trip passed quickly, and before Kurt realized it, they had settled in their seats in the front of Snapple Theater Center and the lights were going down. He had to elbow Sebastian to get him to shut up as the overture began. 

Two hours later, they walked out of the theater. They stood for a moment on the sidewalk, Kurt’s hands in his pockets and Sebastian picking at his cuticles. 

“So what’d you think?” Kurt asked. 

“That was one of the most boring musicals I’ve ever seen.” 

Kurt bristled defensively. “And exactly how many musicals have you seen?” 

“Enough to have seen better,” Sebastian shot back. “Let’s be honest, a classic it may be, but that doesn’t mean much besides that it’s old.” 

“I don’t think _The Fantasticks_ could have become the world’s longest-running musical if it were bad, Sebastian.” 

“I didn’t say it was bad, just boring. If I had picked a musical, I would pick something like…” He trailed off until a bus driving by caught his eye. “That one. _Naked Boys Singing_. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” 

Kurt did a double-take to make sure Sebastian wasn’t making things up. “If by fun, you mean potentially humiliating, then yes, loads of fun.” 

“Just because you’re a prude, Hummel, doesn’t mean we all are.” Sebastian pulled out his phone and checked the time. “Well, aside from the orgasmic cake, this has been a lackluster date. It’s been interesting—” 

“Lackluster?” 

“Yes, lackluster. Having very little excitement or shiny things.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Like you could plan a better date.” 

Sebastian quirked a brow. “That sounds like a challenge. Very well, I accept.” 

“What?” 

“I’m taking you on a decent date. One that’s actually good. Maybe you’ll learn something from it.” 

Kurt couldn’t help himself. “You, Sebastian Smythe, king of the twenty minute relationship, want to take me on a date? Do you even know what a date is?” 

“Generally it involves food and entertainment, right?” He shrugged. “Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.” 

A little voice in the back of Kurt’s head screamed ‘This way lies madness,’ but he ignored it. “Fine. You come up with something for us within the next two weeks. If we both have a good time, I’ll admit you can plan a date better than I can. If not, I get to try again.” He stuck his hand out. “Deal?” 

Sebastian only hesitated for a moment, then gripped the offered hand tightly. “Deal.”


	4. Spin Me Out of Control

Rachel and Brody were both highly amused by the fact that Kurt had somehow secured anywhere from one to infinite additional dates with Sebastian. They had met for breakfast the morning after both boys’ dates to discuss what had happened. Brody claimed he had been a perfect gentleman with Dinah until the end of the date, when she asked him to not be one. They were going out again the next weekend. 

“But that’s normal,” Kurt said. “Girl likes boy, girl and boy go on date, girl and boy go on more dates, girl and boy live happily ever after.” 

“Let’s not take it that far.” Brody held up his hands as if that would stop Kurt’s story in its tracks. “One date does not a happily ever after make.” 

“That’s not the point,” he said, picking at his omelet. “Your story makes sense. How many stories start with ‘boy hates boy, boys go on date under strange circumstances,’ and also have a happy ending?” 

“A large portion of romantic comedies,” Rachel reminded him, “although they usually have heterosexual couples in the main role instead of more diverse pairings. And didn’t you once tell Blaine that your relationship with him was like _When Harry Met Sally_?” 

“I don’t remember which one of us told you that, but I wish we hadn’t.” 

“Just look at it through the same frame as the first one. It’s more dates with a decent and attractive guy, except now he’ll be paying for half of them.” 

“Exactly. Society demands that any upcoming dates with Dinah should be paid for out of my pocket. Take advantage of it,” Brody said. 

Kurt tuned out the beginning of Rachel’s lecture on how to balance being a gentleman with allowing a woman to be an independent and equal partner in the relationship (her women’s studies elective had created some interesting results) in favor of checking his buzzing phone. A text from Sebastian lit up the screen. 

_From: Sebastian  
_ _What do your Tuesday nights look like?_  

Kurt started typing to tell him they were free, but paused to look at Rachel. “We have that mandatory sophomore address with Carmen Tibideaux on Wednesday morning, right?” 

“Yes, any classes cancelled from eight to ten,” she said, before returning to her speech, even though Brody’s eyes had glazed over slightly and he was paying more attention to his bacon than to her. Kurt turned back to his phone. 

_To: Sebastian  
_ _Usually free, but there’s something for me to be present and awake at early this Wednesday, so I’d need to be in bed at a decent hour._  

He fired off the text. At least Sebastian was being considerate of when he was free to plan this date. He had half-expected to end up kidnapped in the middle of the night and dragged to some seedy rave down by the docks. Then again, Sebastian had classes too. His phone buzzed again. 

_From: Sebastian  
_ _I could have you in bed at a decent hour, but you wouldn’t be sleeping. ;)_  

Kurt almost choked on his hash browns, intent on sending back a strongly worded message to let Sebastian know that would not be happening, when another one came in on its heels. 

_From: Sebastian  
_ _Kidding, although I’d kill to see your face right now. How does next Tuesday night sound?_  

Ignoring the temptation to be difficult and say no because of the first text, he sent an affirmation and told Sebastian to text him more specific details later. He needed to rescue Brody from a Rachel Berry Lecture Coma. 

Over the next week, small specifics about the upcoming date found their way onto Kurt’s phone. They would meet up near Sebastian’s dorm and walk to their destination together. The place opened at five, but Sebastian wanted to get there sometime before nine, so Kurt should pick a time accordingly. They would pick up dinner on the way. Wear something hot. Bring an ID. By that point, Kurt had his suspicions about what they were doing, but he trusted Sebastian to remember that they both had to have fun for him to win. 

Kurt found himself walking past various NYU buildings at six o’clock Tuesday night when he spotted Sebastian sitting on a bench. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt and gray jeans that would probably accentuate his features when he stood. Kurt suddenly felt over dressed in his button down dress shirt and vest, even if it was paired with a simple pair of blue jeans. 

When Sebastian caught sight of him, he sighed deeply and stood, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “Come on, I’ve got something in my room you can wear instead.” 

“Excuse me? You said to wear something hot, and I thought this was plenty flattering.” 

“I’m not saying you don’t look hot,” Sebastian said as he let them into the building, “but unless you’re okay with getting the sweat of a thousand different guys on that, I don’t think you want to wear it tonight.” 

Kurt signed in as a guest quickly. They were quiet as they took the stairs up three floors, and Sebastian let them into a room halfway down the hall. “I have the single part of a three-person suite,” he explained. “It’s not the worst situation, but I still have to share a bathroom.” He strode over to a dresser tucked against the wall, asking Kurt to strip off his shirts. Kurt hesitated, then obliged, keeping the white t-shirt he wore as an undershirt on. Sebastian dug around in the bottom of a drawer, his arm almost disappearing into the piles of folded clothes. “All the too-small stuff is at the bottom, but…” He glanced back at Kurt and paused. “You know what? I think you pass anyway. You can just leave your stuff here and pick it up later.” 

“Why would I leave my clothes in your dorm room?” 

“Why would I leave my cake in your apartment?” 

“It wasn’t actually your cake.” 

“That’s what you think.” Sebastian ended the discussion by tossing Kurt’s clothes onto his bed and grabbing his wrist to lead him out. He locked the door behind him and, still not letting go, pulled Kurt back towards the exit. 

Outside, Sebastian looked around for a second. “Let’s go this way for dinner. You like falafel?” 

“I’ve never actually had it,” Kurt admitted. 

Sebastian looked scandalized, then shook his head. “We will fix this. Soon. I’m taking you to the best falafel cart this side of Broadway.” 

“There’s a better one on the other side of Broadway?”

“Oh, absolutely. Rick likes to stake out Third Avenue, but Tony has Fifth as his territory and he gives me discounts sometimes.” He smiles, an actual smile. “Benefits of being a repeat customer.” 

The guy at the falafel cart does in fact seem to know Sebastian and gives him what he calls “the daily special” at two for one when Sebastian asks him to surprise them. They walk a little further and find another bench to perch on and eat, Kurt devouring his own order after the first tentative bite. Their spot allowed them to people watch while they ate, coming up with more and more ridiculous scenarios with each passing person. By the time Sebastian had concocted a story about a woman walking her poodle being in the secret Westminster Kennel Club mafia, Kurt was barely holding in his laughter. The time came though when the food disappeared and it was on to the entertainment portion of the evening. Tossing their paper plates in a nearby trash can, Sebastian offered his hand again and Kurt took it. 

“So Chaz Donaldsworth, ready to go?” 

Kurt laughed. “That ID is stashed in the bottom of a box in a storage unit in Lima, only to see the light of day as an amusing memory. However, Kirk Hudmel is ready.” 

“Let me see that.” Kurt pulled out his wallet and flipped it open to the rather nice Ohio driver’s license. According to it, his name was Kirk Hudmel, a 23-year-old from Cincinnati. “How did you get one this good?” 

“Puck gave it to me as a graduation gift. Apparently all the other New Directions guys had gotten one over the years, but he wanted to wait until I looked less like a milkmaid before he took the picture to order one for me.” 

Sebastian tilted it back and forth, examining the workmanship. “This is good. Really good. Give props to him for me. I’m impressed.” 

“I’ll be sure to let him know that Dalton Draco is impressed with his craftsmanship.” A look of confusion crossed Sebastian’s face. “Puck is fond of the idea that Dalton is gay Hogwarts. Blaine’s vague resemblance to Harry Potter didn’t do much to dissuade him. The few guys he knows from there have earned related nicknames. As the jerk with a powerful father who attacked his Harry Potter, you get to be Draco Malfoy.” 

He squinted at Kurt for a moment, then smiled brightly. “I’m oddly proud of that. Especially since everyone knows Harry and Draco had to have hooked up at some point.” 

“That’s why I tried to talk him out of that designation, but he doesn’t listen well. If he did, I would be Neville Longbottom.” 

“Why would you pick Neville?”

“The guy everyone picks on for years that ends up being the one to save the day? Why wouldn’t I want to be him?” 

Sebastian nodded. “So who are you?” 

Kurt muttered under his breath, praying Sebastian wouldn’t hear him. 

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said. “Try again?” 

Taking a deep breath, Kurt said, “Hermione Granger, okay? And I don’t want to hear any girl jokes.” 

“I wasn’t going to make any,” Sebastian said sincerely. “I can see it, actually.” 

“Then enlighten me, because Puck certainly never did.” 

“The perfectly put-together, rule-following know-it-all everyone picks on, who turns into a strong, confident person that doesn’t take crap from anyone, not to mention being a complete badass? Sound familiar?” 

The silence following his comment hung between them as they walked. Kurt broke it, saying, “I may need to call Puck and thank him.” 

“Later, we’re here.” Kurt looked at the building in front of him. Music poured out the door and the bouncer at the door was missing his sleeves. 

“Where’s here?” 

“Welcome to Splash.” He gestured expansively. “Best part is, we’re here on gay college Tuesday. They’ll let you in even if you’re eighteen, but you still have to be twenty-one to drink, thus the ID.” 

“You do remember the last time we were in a gay bar together, right?” Kurt asked as they joined the short line. “That didn’t end well for anyone involved.” 

“That was two years ago,” Sebastian dismissed. “Splash is not Scandals, and there is more hot, gay, twenty-year-old male in there than there has ever been in Lima, Ohio. Besides, we’re not engaging in a passive-aggressive battle over a guy, which removes the majority of the problem right there.” 

Kurt didn’t want to admit it, but he had a point. Just by taking the Blaine of it all out of their relationship, he and Sebastian were on good terms. It made him wonder if they could have been friends outright if it hadn’t been for Sebastian’s attraction. 

“So what will we do when we’re in there?” 

The mild shock was plain on Sebastian’s face. “You do know what to do in a club, don’t you?” 

“Dance, drink, and be merry, not that hard,” Kurt said waving a hand. “I mean do we have a buddy system of sorts?” 

“Oh.” Sebastian thought for a moment. “I thought, since I was taking you on a _date_ here, we’d dance together, occasionally dance with other guys, and I’d pay your cover and for all your drinks at the bar.” 

Nodding, Kurt stepped forward and showed his ID to the bouncer. Sebastian presented his alongside it and they passed without comment, a crisp twenty pressed into the doorman’s hand. 

Inside, it was dark and loud. Jessie J blared from the speakers as the dancer pulsed with men. Kurt’s eyes were wide as they carefully made their way to the bar, hands linked so they didn’t lose each other in the crowd. The place he’d gone to with Brody looked like Scandals compared to this. He felt a little lost, despite Sebastian’s hand warm and slightly sweaty in his. 

“What do you want?” Sebastian called over the music. 

Kurt glanced at the bar and smirked at Sebastian. “Not a Shirley Temple.” 

Laughing, Sebastian nodded and let go of Kurt’s hand, picking his way through the happy hour crowd to reach the bar. Kurt hadn’t expected to feel the loss of him as strong as he did. Sure it wasn’t much, a faint tickling of “I hope he comes back soon,” but even that was odd. 

He put it down to their shaky new friendship. Even though this was a date by name, he didn’t really expect Sebastian to treat it as such. Paying cover and drinks was part of the deal, but he’d fully expected to be turned loose while Sebastian went in search of a bathroom hookup. But Sebastian returned, bottle of Miller in one hand glass of what Kurt quickly discovered was white wine in the other. They sipped slowly, chatting at the edge of the dance floor while the music played. Eventually, Lady Gaga blared over the speakers and Kurt smiled fondly, thinking of the girls’ number at Nationals his senior year. 

Sebastian tapped his bottle against Kurt’s glass and tipped it up to finish it once he had Kurt’s attention. Kurt took the hint and drained the rest of his glass, setting it on the table behind him. Leaving the beer bottle next to it, Sebastian led Kurt to the dance floor, settling his hands on Kurt’s hips and pulling him close. 

The Bambi incident was long behind, but Kurt was still something of a lightweight. He knew it and he was careful of it. With a rather large glass of wine generating a buzz and the music pulsing through the crowd, Kurt allowed himself to get lost in the beat. Any self-consciousness about his dancing and Mike’s long ago comment about his shoulder shimmy was forgotten with his hands above his head and Sebastian’s thumbs brushing his hipbones. 

They danced like that for a while, Kurt eventually settling his hands on Sebastian’s shoulders to balance them. They moved together, but kept a respectable distance between them, and Kurt was distantly reminded of old sitcoms with a middle school dance and parent chaperones demanding the couples leave room for Jesus. The DJ cycled through Katy Perry’s latest hit and “Pon de Replay” made an appearance. Then he’d apparently decided to have a laugh because the Macarena was blaring out and almost everyone was pushing onto the floor for a bit of nostalgia. 

Wiped from the energetic dancing and wanting to rest his recently stepped on feet (the dance floor was too crowded for that song), Kurt dipped his head to the side and indicated he was leaving to Sebastian. Sebastian started to follow but Kurt stopped him. “You can keep dancing if you want to.” 

“You sure?” 

“It’s not like this is a real date, Sebastian.” He didn’t notice as the other boy’s face closed off. “You don’t need to keep an eye on me at all times. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.” 

“Right,” Sebastian said shortly. “I’ll come find you later.” 

He disappeared into the dance floor again and Kurt turned his back on the mob, heading to the slightly emptier bar and getting a glass of water to rehydrate. He sat there for a while, waiting for his head to stop spinning from the combination of wine, music, dancing, and boys. One boy in particular. Something about Sebastian was just intoxicating in its own right, be it his charm or the joy he found in simple things. 

Kurt danced with a few other boys that asked him, but always returned to the bar, not quite feeling like faking a connection with them. It wasn’t until almost two hours had passed that he realized he hadn’t seen Sebastian once that entire time. He’d expected the other boy to check in once in awhile, which was why he’d stuck to the bar area, even when he was dancing. Unfortunately, he had no idea where Sebastian had gone off to, and actually searching for him in the crowd would most likely result in them missing each other. The easiest thing to do would be plant himself in a single spot and wait for Sebastian to come to him. 

Another hour later, and Sebastian hadn’t approached the bar at all, even from a distance. Kurt was beginning to worry. Even though they were both adults, it was just a safety thing to check in with each other once in a while and make sure nothing was wrong. He didn’t even have his phone to call and ask Sebastian where he was. 

Given that it was closing in on ten and he had class in the morning, Kurt went looking. If Sebastian wanted to stay, that was fine, but he was going to do him the courtesy of letting him know he was leaving. 

Rather than dive right into the crowd, Kurt began circling the edge of the dance floor. He couldn’t see very far inside, but Sebastian was bound to come out for air sometime. On his third loop around, Kurt was getting tired and frustrated. He rounded the corner and had a clear view of the hallway leading to the bathrooms. Halfway down, he caught sight of an arm sliding from head height to around hip level. When the muscles in said arm began moving back and forth, Kurt realized what he was seeing and determinedly averted his eyes as he walked past. 

That is, until he heard a moan last heard around a bite of chocolate cake in his apartment.


	5. Way Past Pride

Kurt couldn’t help himself. He stared for a moment, watching Sebastian tangle his fingers in the hair of the boy on his knees worshipping his cock. He must have made some kind of noise loud enough to be heard over the music because Sebastian looked over. His eyes were glazed, but then they widened when he registered Kurt standing there. 

“Kurt.” 

The blonde on his knees pulled off and said, “My name is Braeden.” 

“I don’t care,” Sebastian shot back, eyes still fixed on the end of the hall. 

Somehow, Kurt found his voice. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving.” He gave a vague wave and turned around, ignoring the sounds of distress from Braeden and the fumbling noises from Sebastian. He stalked his way out of the club, barely making it to the sidewalk before the tears hit. 

“Kurt, wait up a second!” 

He wasn’t about to be a standing target for Sebastian, especially in front of the audience waiting outside. He stalked down the street, away from the crowds and eventually settled into a short trash alley between two establishments. 

He hoped Sebastian would pass him by, but no such luck. He stumbled into the alley, clearly more drunk than he had been when dancing with Kurt. “What’s your problem?” 

Of all the things Kurt thought he’d start with, that was the furthest from his mind. “My problem? My problem is that we’re supposed to be on a date, then you disappear for three hours to get your cock sucked!” 

Sebastian looked gobsmacked. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re not excused! I know I said I could handle myself, and I did, but there’s such a thing as common courtesy.” He knew he was letting himself get way too worked up about this, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I didn’t see you for three hours. Do you know what could happen in three hours? You could have been drugged, raped, killed, kidnapped, anything. If you had checked in, I would have known you were okay. I let you know I was going to the bar and I barely left, so you knew where I was. A little human decency, that’s all I ask.” He took a deep breath. “And then there’s the other thing. I know you’re new to the whole ‘date’ thing, but it’s usually frowned upon to get off with someone other than the person you took on a date, even if said person isn’t putting out. I pity the first guy you take on a real date.” 

“But that’s just it,” Sebastian interrupted. 

“What’s it?” 

“You said yourself it wasn’t a real date. Therefore, date rules don’t apply.”

Kurt paused, cycling through the fuzzier memories of the night, the ones with a blur like a television dream sequence around the edges. Finally, he hit on it, right after the Macarena and before the bar stakeout, he told Sebastian it wasn’t a real date. 

“You’re right.” 

“You’re damn right, I’m right!” Sebastian yelled. “Maybe it was a dick move to ditch a _friend_ to get off, but you made it clear that’s what this was. Two friends hanging out at a club. You specified that it wasn’t a date. So don’t pull that ‘holier than thou’ crap about how I don’t know how to treat a date. I was fully prepared to treat this like the best damn date you’ve ever been on. _You_ made the change. _You_ dictated the terms. So _you_ don’t get to shriek at me about how this is a horrible date when _you_ said it wasn’t one.” 

He was breathing heavily when he finished ranting. The tension was thick between them, a palpable barrier. Kurt wasn’t sure how it had come to this. Earlier that evening, he had been musing on their friendship, and now they were screaming at each other in an alley. If they weren’t careful, someone might try to report an assault of sorts. 

Sebastian’s shoulders dropped. “Look, I’ll go first. I’m sorry I ran off and didn’t check in. That was a dick move and I apologize for that.” 

“Apology accepted,” Kurt said automatically. “I’m sorry I was acting hypocritically. I shouldn’t have said one thing while expecting another. It was unfair of me and I apologize.” He didn’t get an answer. Sebastian just eyed him carefully. “Do you accept my apology or not?” 

“I like watching you squirm.”

“Asshole.” 

“At least I own up to it,” Sebastian said. “And yes, I do accept your apology.” He pushed off from the wall and offered Kurt his hand. “Now do you think you could lead me back to the dorms? I’m a little too drunk to figure out where I followed you to and how to get home from here.” 

Kurt rolled his eyes and took Sebastian’s hand, leading him through the streets of New York.


	6. Let That Clock Tick Away

They decided to count the trip to Splash as a failure on both their parts and let date control return to Kurt. He would admit that he put a lot of thought into where he was taking Sebastian on the next date. It had to be something they would both enjoy, as well as within his price range. Nothing too cheap, because then Sebastian would bitch and say he didn’t like it on principle. Nothing that would break the bank, either. The _Fantasticks_ tickets had been luck, a bribe that came through the Vogue office that Isabelle was willing to give up for charity, especially since she’d seen the show before. And while Sebastian Smythe might have three hundred dollars to drop on a single date, Kurt Hummel did not. 

He ruled out most NYADA haunts right away, not wanting to give Sebastian any ammo to insult the places he and his classmates hung out. Another Broadway show would be expensive unless they went for student rush, which wouldn’t guarantee seats, let alone good seats. Eventually, Kurt resigned himself to googling cheap date ideas for New York City. There were some interesting options of the under five dollars variety, but he dismissed those like he knew Sebastian would. A few more pages discarded, and he eventually stumbled upon a comedy club right on Broadway that had reasonably priced seats for Monday nights with new talent. The food prices were a little high, but hopefully it would be worth it. 

A quick text told him that Sebastian was indeed free on Mondays after five. He bought tickets for a 5:45 dinner reservation, deciding to tell the other boy they were for 5:30 just in case. He’d head over to the NYU campus after his last class instead of back out to Bushwick. It was a perfect plan. 

Unfortunately, the new talent didn’t get the memo that it was supposed to be perfect. Fifteen minutes before the show was to begin, a woman came out and announced that their scheduled performer had come down with food poisoning and was unable to perform. 

The management must have had back-up acts lined up, because someone else took the stage for the allotted time, but the man wasn’t funny. It wasn’t that his jokes were tasteless or his delivery was off, anything that could be pinpointed as a single problem. He simply wasn’t funny. Apparently management knew it too, because Kurt saw some people in suits standing in the back with their faces in their hands. 

A small part of him hoped they would get vouchers for some kind of make-up show, but nothing was announced. Most likely it was due to the fact that it was a Monday night showing of an unknown as opposed to a named comedian. They did get free dessert, so Kurt considered that a win. 

As bad as things were in the comedy club, they got worse on the way home. 

Sebastian wanted to pay for a taxi, but Kurt insisted his date, his rules, so they hopped on the R line back to campus. Unfortunately, it broke down between stops while they were on it, leaving them stranded underground. 

Neither one of them panicked. Kurt simply commented that as bad as their last date had ended, this one must be the one from hell. That made Sebastian laugh and they started brainstorming all the other things that might go wrong. Somewhere between a flash flood filling the tunnel and noxious gas from the sewer killing them slowly, maintenance men came and opened the train doors to lead them out. As two able-bodied young men, they felt obliged to help the pair of older women heading home from their knitting circle find a cab to take home. (Well, Kurt felt obliged and bugged Sebastian until he paid for their cab.) By the time they made it back to Sebastian’s dorm, it was nearing midnight. 

“Well, this will be a fun trip back to Brooklyn,” Kurt said sarcastically as they approached the building. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I hate riding the subway after midnight. It’s not that it is scarier, it just feels that way. Like how every noise is a werewolf when there’s a full moon.” 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve gone crazy. You sure you didn’t actually breathe any sewer fumes while we were down there?” 

“I’m sure.” Kurt took a deep breath. “Well, this has been another horrible date. See you next time.” He turned to make his way to a different subway line, hoping it didn’t break down too, when Sebastian’s voice stopped him. 

“You could stay here.” 

Kurt turned around. “What?” 

“You could stay the night here. You’ll have to sign in as an overnight guest and leave a photo ID and all that, but it’s all allowed. Plus, I’m the one with the single, remember? We’ll have to share the bed, but no one will bug us.” 

Brain stuttering over sharing a bed with Sebastian, Kurt nodded and followed him into the building. He signed in, receiving a temporary visitor pass that would allow him to enter the building without Sebastian for the duration of his stay. He doubted he’d need it, but it was nice to have. 

Sebastian’s room was dark and cool, black out curtains drawn over the windows that he knew from last time had a decent view of the street. Sebastian flipped a light switch and Kurt saw his eyes dart around the room, most likely making sure there was nothing incriminating laying out in the open. The room must have been to his satisfaction, because he stepped aside and let Kurt all the way in. 

“So, I have some spare t-shirts and sweat pants for pajamas if you need them,” he said awkwardly. “Shower’s in there if you want one. I may not have all your fancy products, but you’ll get clean.” 

“Thanks,” Kurt said absently, unsure of where to stand. His mind was flung back to the first time he had stayed the night at Blaine’s. His parents were gone for the weekend, so Kurt fabricated a sleepover with Mercedes and went over to add a little extra life to the empty house. That had been just as awkward, although there was more giggling then. They had felt rebellious, getting away with an illicit slumber party. This should have been simple, a favor between friends, but it felt so much bigger. 

Unknotting his scarf, he tilted his head toward the bathroom. “I’ll just wash my face and change in there,” he said, draping the scarf over the back of Sebastian’s chair. 

“Kay. Oh, here.” He quickly opened the top drawer of the dresser and pulled out a Dalton Athletics t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats. “These should fit well enough.” 

Kurt nodded and excused himself to the bathroom. The soaps available were fairly standard skincare for college boys, but it was better than nothing. Making sure both doors were locked, Kurt stripped off his shirt and hung it on the back of the bathroom door. He didn’t wait for the water to warm, grabbing a washcloth he hoped was Sebastian’s and proceeding to scrub his face with a wash that seemed likely to belong to his host. 

A short ten minutes later, a record by his standards, Kurt exited the bathroom, clad in soft clothes that weren’t his own and carrying a folded stack of designer wear. Sebastian was holding a tank top and basketball shorts, and darted in. Kurt heard the click of the lock and, a few seconds later, the shower start. Realizing it might be a while and not wanting to get in bed without Sebastian there, he grabbed his school bag, thankful he hadn’t gone back home. 

He sat at the desk and got his phone out to check e-mail when he noticed a text from Rachel, asking where he was. Wondering how to explain the chaos of the night, he kept it cryptic. 

_To: Miss Berry*  
_ _MTA problems. Staying with Sebastian. Will fill you in before class tomorrow._  

The response was swift, and he was surprised he didn’t hear any sort of squeal all the way from across the bridge.

_From: Miss Berry*  
_ _Starbucks near campus, 7:30am, don’t be late._

He set an alarm for quarter to seven, closed his eyes, and set his phone down, e-mails forgotten. Rachel had been pushing them to keep on the friend path since the beginning. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she had ulterior motives.

He must have dozed off, because Sebastian was shaking him awake, muttering something about killing his neck in that chair. Kurt allowed himself to be manhandled into bed and turned on his side. Sebastian pressed up along his back and wrapped an arm around his waist, complaining about the impossibly small size of dorm beds. He murmured a good night and drifted off, barely registering the answer or the small kiss to the back of his neck.


	7. Fall Like a Sparrow, Fly Like a Dove

While it was a deficit when living with Rachel “I sing every morning before seven” Berry, Kurt had always been a light sleeper, which meant he could set quieter alarms and not wake other people. So when his phone went off in the morning, it didn’t surprise him that Sebastian didn’t move. He was a little surprised by the arm tight around his waist, but give that the bed was three feet off the ground and he was barely two inches from the edge, it was probably for safety reasons. 

Gently, he lifted Sebastian’s arm and crawled out of the bed. Sebastian whined a little before snuffling into his pillow in a way that could only be described as adorable. He stole across the room, slipping into his jeans from the previous day. A discerning eye might notice, but they were nondescript. Besides, most college students wore the same outfit two days in a row at least once. 

However, Kurt Hummel was not most college students. In addition, the robin egg blue shirt was a memorable. Remembering that he never reclaimed his shirt and vest from the Splash expedition, he started rooting around in various spots of Sebastian’s room for it. After fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, he poked Sebastian until he awoke. 

“Whuzzat?” 

“Where did you put my clothes from before Splash?” 

“Um…” He looked entirely confused. “Laundry? I was going to wash them for you.” 

Kurt was touched, until he saw the state of Sebastian’s laundry basket. Both pieces were crumpled in the middle of the pile, completely wrinkled and unwearable for the day. 

“Sebastian, I’m stealing a shirt from you,” Kurt told him. He wasn’t sure if Sebastian actually heard him because he just rolled over to face the curtains. Luckily one of the white dress shirts in the dresser fit in the torso, so he just had to roll up the sleeves. Feeling bare, he dug around a little more before turning up a familiar red and navy striped tie. Laughing to himself, he wrapped it around his neck and tied it loosely. Now that it wasn’t part of a required uniform, he could appreciate the fashion potential it held. 

Sebastian was still dead to the world, so Kurt scribbled out a short note and set it on top of his phone before he let himself out. The girl at the front desk gave him a tired smile when he returned his visitor’s pass and he stepped onto the street, turning to the coffee shop he and Rachel like to stop at before classes. 

Rachel wasn’t there yet, so Kurt ordered his mocha and a chai tea latte for her, fiddling with his phone while he waited. Idly scrolling through contacts, he realized that in the mess following the club, he’d forgotten to text Puck. 

_To: Puck  
_ _1) Dalton Draco thinks you make a good fake ID. 2) He thinks Draco and Harry hooked up too. 3) I get why I’m Hermione. Thanks._  

He had just sent it when Rachel strolled in, determined look on her face. Completely bypassing the counter, she sat down across from Kurt. “So what happened?” 

“Caroline’s sucked, the MTA broke down, and it was either get on the train after midnight or stay the night. I picked the choice better for my sanity,” he summarized. 

“He didn’t drive you crazy?” 

“No, he was sweet. I accidentally fell asleep in a desk chair and he got me into bed with him. Not like that!” he exclaimed, noticing the pleased look on Rachel’s face. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I was unconscious by the time I was actually in the bed.” 

“Take all the fun out of it.” She sat back to pout and noticed her latte for the first time. “So when are you going out again?” she asked, taking a sip. 

“Whenever he comes up with a new best date ever.” 

“Wait.” She set the cup down carefully. “You two are still using the whole ‘who can build a better date’ pretense?” 

“It’s not pretense. Neither of us has won yet.” 

“I thought you two were actually dating.” 

Kurt nearly choked on his mocha. “What?” 

“Everyone I’ve talked to about this is pretty sure you two are dating.” 

“What do you mean everyone? Who’s everyone?” 

She waved a hand. “Not many people. New Directions, Brody, my dads.” 

“Your— What evidence do you have of this?” 

“You talk about him all the time,” Rachel began, listing off on her fingers. “You scrapped a bunch of different plans looking for the perfect date. You were so upset after the incident at the club. Every time he texts you, you smile. Both of you have started flirting with each other in statuses on Facebook. You look like you want to wrap yourself in that shirt and never come out, and judging by the rolled up sleeves and Dalton tie, I’m betting it’s Sebastian’s and smells like him.” She smiled. “Should I go on?” 

“No,” Kurt snapped. “Look, just because I’m having fun with Sebastian and like hanging out with him and going on dates with him and think he’s hot and enjoyed cuddling with him last night and am pretty sure he gave me a good night kiss last night and okay, maybe I was upset after Splash, but that’s because he shouldn’t have gone off that little twink when he was on a date with me and—” He stopped, watching in horror as Rachel’s smile grew wider. “Holy shit.” 

“Yes?” 

“I’ve been dating Sebastian Smythe.” 

“Yes you have.” 

“Not just challenge dating, actual dating.” 

“That’s right.” 

“When did that happen?” 

“My guess is sometime between the auction and the club.” She picked up her drink and stood. “I’m going to get some extra studying in. You figure out what you’re going to do.” 

She left a dumbstruck Kurt sitting in a Starbucks booth. He almost had his fingers working again and was taking a long drink of coffee when his phone buzzed. Absently, he opened the text, and nearly spit out his drink when he read it. 

_From: Puck  
_ _Dude, rach told me everything. Harry and draco may have hooked up, hermione and harry were best friends, but draco and hermione? Thats some epic shit_


	8. Let's Jump In

Sebastian seemed to take joy in refusing to tell Kurt where they were going on a date. All Kurt got this time around was that it was in Brooklyn. Sebastian insisted that it was right up his alley and he’d love it, but that left way too many variables. It could be anything. Part of him was aware that he was focusing on the date to avoid thinking about how to bring up the whole, “I want to date you, even though we already are,” thing. The rest of him made it clear that part needed to shut up. 

They hadn’t seen each other in a week, but Sebastian used his previous knowledge of Kurt’s schedule to tell him when to be ready. Kurt opened the sliding door on Tuesday night to see Sebastian standing there with a stack of folded, freshly laundered clothes, and— 

“Why are you wearing my scarf?” 

“Because you took my tie.” Sebastian fired back. “I don’t see why you would want a Dalton tie. Don’t you have some of your own?” 

“There was a ceremonial burning after I transferred back to McKinley. The blazer went, too.” 

“What did the blazer ever do to you?” 

“It existed,” Kurt said airily. “It was an affront to fashion, so I removed said affront from this earth.” 

“Remind me not to get on your bad side. I would hate to be considered an affront to something and end up removed from the earth.” 

“You’ve done a fairly good job of surviving so far.” He carried the clothes to his bedroom. “Do I need anything for this date?” 

“Grab Kirk Hudmel. I think this place is only twenty-one and up, but I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.” 

“Where is this place, anyway?” Kurt asked as he shuffled through his dresser to find the ID. 

“Just a few stops down the L line.” 

“That’s frustratingly vague.” 

“I know.” He plastered an insufferable smirk onto his face. “Come on, if we hurry, we can catch the tail end of happy hour.” 

Some construction on their walking path forced them to take the long way to the station, so they missed happy hour by about fifteen minutes. It wasn’t too upsetting, since they opted instead to order some food and relax with some of the games available. Kurt admitted he hadn’t played skee ball in years, which prompted Sebastian to steer them over to the ramp as soon as their plates were cleaned. 

The first round ended about how Kurt expected. Sebastian had held his own, but Kurt had done dismally. “Just keep practicing,” Sebastian encouraged. “If my six year old cousin can beat me at this every time she plays me, you should be able to.” 

“You play skee ball against your six year old cousin? Who in their right minds would leave their child with you?” 

“I never said Aunt Helen was in her right mind. She has a flask and a holster that keeps it strapped to her inner thigh under skirts.” Kurt looked back at him, incredulous. “And no, I don’t want to talk about how I know that little fact.” 

They kept playing until Kurt hit the low end of a respectable score, then switched to pool. Kurt started off slow, letting Sebastian sink a few balls, then soundly wiped the table with him. “How did—” 

“I can probably kick your ass at poker, too.” 

“Where did you learn this?” 

“Dad,” Kurt said simply. “When I was little, we kept a pool table in the basement. He taught me how to play before I could see over the top of the table. It was this strange version, where he set me on the table and I would grab the cue ball and roll it across the felt instead of using a stick. Once I was able to beat him that way, he started me on the stick. The table was old, it fell apart before I moved downstairs.” 

“And the poker?” 

“He let me sit in on the games with the guys from the shop after Mom died. They all liked me and Dad didn’t want to pay for a babysitter that often, so they just taught me and I bid candy instead of chips. That’s actually how I got my clothing budget.” 

“Beating mechanics at poker.” Kurt nodded. “I never would have guessed.” 

“I’m a man of mystery.” He chalked his cue. “Rack them up again?” 

They played one more round, and then another guy came over and tried to beat Kurt. It was a close game, but Kurt sank his final two in quick succession while the stranger had one left on the table. After a while, they ordered drinks and took them out to the patio, watching as a woman set up the small outdoor stage. 

More people joined them outside, and eventually Sebastian excused himself to the bathroom. The woman on stage announced that it was ten o’clock to the cheering crowd as Kurt watched his retreating back. When he turned his attention back, he heard the word “Queereoke” and couldn’t help his smile. A laid-back gay bar with karaoke night. Sebastian was right; he was enjoying himself. This was probably a winning date. Hopefully the end would be as nice as the middle. 

“I want to dedicate this one to my friend Kurt.” Kurt looked up from his drink, surprised to hear Sebastian’s voice over the microphone. He looked at the stage and saw him standing there, microphone in one hand, fiddling with the scarf nervously. “Things have never been smooth for us, but I just want to make this really clear to you.” He waited for Sebastian to explain what he was going to make clear, but the music started instead. Kurt found himself holding back hysterical laughter at the fact that even in college, he and his friends were communicating through song. 

_“I packed a cooler and a change of clothes  
_ _Let's jump in, see how far it goes  
_ _You got my heart in your daddy's boat  
_ _We've got all night to make it float_  

_We could sit on the shore  
_ _We could just be friends  
_ _Or we could jump in”_  

At that moment, Kurt realized what Sebastian was saying. Maybe he didn’t have to be the one to make the first move. 

_“The whole world could change in a minute  
_ _Just one kiss could stop it spinning  
_ _We could think it through  
_ _But I don't want to, if you don't want to_  

_We could keep things just the same  
_ _Leave here the way we came  
_ _with nothing to lose  
_ _But I don't want to, if you don't want to”_  

Sebastian might have thought there was nothing to lose, but Kurt knew better. To Kurt, there was so much as stake. He kept watching Sebastian, who seemed determined to not make eye contact, but kept fiddling with the scarf. 

_“I got your ring around my neck  
_ _and a couple of nights I don't regret”_  

Kurt snorted softly in amusement as Sebastian’s refusal to return the scarf made a little more sense. 

_“You've got a dream of a degree  
_ _And a shirt that smells like me”_  

Kurt thought of that shirt, the way Rachel called him out on it, and the fact that he had sat wrapped in it for a few hours when he was home alone, just letting the fading scent of Sebastian drift around him. 

_“Yeah we both got dreams  
_ _we could chase alone  
_ _or we could make our own_  

_The whole world could change in a minute  
_ _Just one kiss could stop it spinning  
_ _We could think it through  
_ _But I don't want to if you don't want to  
_ _We could keep things just the same  
_ _Leave here the way we came  
_ _with nothing to lose  
_ _But I don't want to if you don't want to_  

_Never waste another day wonderin' what you threw away  
_ _Holding me, holding you  
_ _I don't want to, if you don't want to”_  

He remembered how it felt, being wrapped up in Sebastian’s arms in his bed. It hadn’t occurred to him how right it felt, but it had to mean something that he hadn’t slept the same in the last week. 

_“We could keep things just the same  
_ _Leave here the way we came with nothing to lose  
_ _But I don't want to, if you don't want to_  

_But I want to”_  

As Kurt watched, Sebastian very deliberately lifted his face and looked Kurt dead in the eye. 

_“But I want you”_  

Sebastian replaced the microphone in the stand to loud applause and a few whistles. The blush was plain on his face as he made his way back to Kurt. Kurt stood and Sebastian cast his eyes down to the ground. 

“I just wanted to put that out there. I know this probably isn’t what you thought was going to happen tonight, but I don’t really want to keep it a secret anymore. Like I said, if you don’t want to, nothing has to change. But I’d really like to keep hanging out with you because I actually enjoy—” 

Kurt had grabbed his scarf around Sebastian’s neck and hauled him in for a kiss. It was too hard, no finesse at all, but it shut Sebastian up, which was the point. Kurt pulled back for a split second. 

“I want to.” 

Sebastian drew in a sharp breath at that and dove back in, lips parted and tongue coming out to claim Kurt’s mouth. They stood like that for a minute or so, wrapped up in each other, before the catcalls registered and they broke apart again, blushing. 

“By the way,” Kurt whispered, “I think you just won. You have definitely planned the better date.”

The victory arms Sebastian threw into the air made the laughter Kurt had barely been keeping in come bubbling to the surface.


	9. All the Things I Dream

“So where exactly are we going again?” Kurt asked as he and Sebastian rode the A line on a Friday night. 

“An off-Broadway show,” he answered cryptically. “You’ll like it, don’t worry.” 

“Just because you were the first between us to come up with a decent date doesn’t make you the expert in all things Kurt Hummel.” 

Sebastian turned on the puppy dog eyes. “Please, Kurt. I actually researched this show and I’m pretty sure you’ll enjoy it. I just want it to be a surprise when we get there.” 

“Oh stop that,” Kurt said, smacking his shoulder. “I’ll let it be a surprise. As long as you promise it’s nothing horrendous and incredibly offensive.” 

“It’s a musical, how bad could it be?” 

“Knowing what I know about the likes of _The Book of Mormon_ and _Avenue Q_ , you’d be surprised how offensive a musical can be.” 

Sebastian snorted and conceded the point, but just intertwined his fingers with Kurt’s and squeezed, resting there for the rest of the ride. Kurt let a smile steal over his face at the simple gesture, one he knew Sebastian wasn’t used to yet. They’d been actually dating for a month (counting from the first date after the Metropolitan, which Rachel still refused to do) and Sebastian initiating small shows of affection was rare. He always accepted Kurt’s and was doing it himself more often, but it was a work in progress. 

They got off at the 42nd Street stop, and Sebastian led the way down the street to a theatre. All Sebastian told him was that it was a late show that ended around 11:30, so he could bring a bag with a change of clothes and stay the night. He tried to play it off as not wanting Kurt on the subway after midnight, something Kurt wasn’t keen on anyway, but they both knew it was because they wanted to wake up next to each other again. What had started as convenience after the date at Caroline’s had turned comfortable over a few more late nights out to the point where neither one slept as well alone. 

“I really think you’ll like ‘Jack’s Song,’” Sebastian commented out of nowhere. “Really a beautiful piece of music.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Kurt said. “Which theatre is it in?” 

“I think it’s the Kirk, right… about… there it is.” He pointed up ahead to a line on the sidewalk. “We just need to get our tickets from will call.” 

They joined the line and Kurt peeked through the crowd to see the posters hanging outside the theatre. “Sebastian,” he said in a low voice, “we’re seeing _Newsical the Musical_ , right?” 

“Not exactly,” Sebastian said, grinning brightly. He stuck his hands up to ward off the shoulder smack Kurt pulled back to deliver. “Come on now, isn’t it a little too soon for the violence? I thought for sure your patience would last at least three months, but that’s the second time tonight.” 

“You must not have factored in your own asshole tendencies,” Kurt bit back.

“Ooh, using your big boy words. Hot.” When Kurt went to hit him again, he said, “Hey, I’m the most amazing boyfriend ever. I’m paying for you to ogle other naked men singing and dancing and I’m most likely not getting laid for it.” 

“You’re definitely not getting laid tonight.” 

“See? Wait, were there plans for me to get laid tonight that I didn’t know about? Because we can go carry out those plans instead of seeing the show if you want.” 

Kurt almost laughed out loud at the torn look on Sebastian’s face. “You were one hundred percent not getting laid tonight. Now it’s a hundred and ten percent.” 

Sebastian contemplated this for a moment as they moved up in line. “Well, if I’m not getting off either way, I might as well get the joy of watching you squirm out of it.” 

“Worst boyfriend ever.” 

“You mispronounced best.” 

Once they got into the theatre, Kurt started examining his playbill to see exactly what was in store. The title of the opening song gave that away, as did the show’s title itself, but the rest looked interesting. He blushed at the subtitle of “Jack’s Song” (he was pretty sure he would _not_ like it) and wondered about some of the others. As the lights went down and the cell phone announcement was made, he triple checked his phone. Most likely the announcement was a joke, but he wasn’t taking any chances. 

The opening number made him blush furiously and he wanted to avert his eyes, but he knew he’d never hear the end of it from Sebastian if he did, so he kept watching. By the end of “The Naked Maid,” he was beginning to laugh and enjoy himself. “Window to Window” brought a change of pace and a soft smile to his face. The song in the gym class locker room made him uncomfortable in the worst way, something that Sebastian picked up on. He grabbed Kurt’s hand and squeezed it, a simple reminder that he was there. It was nice, until Sebastian started squeezing to the beat during “Jack’s Song.” Then Kurt dropped it, crossing his arms petulantly while Sebastian laughed. 

Halfway through one song, Kurt started tearing up. Something about the way the actor sang, “I’m the one who’s left,” stuck him right in the heart. He leaned into Sebastian’s side, and Sebastian took the hint and wrapped an arm around him. Kurt felt a soft kiss pressed to the side of his head and stayed there for the rest of the show, happy to have this boy next to him. 

The short encore was quite funny, and then the lights came up. Kurt looked up at Sebastian, who smiled down at him. “So, what’d you think?” 

“I actually liked it,” Kurt admitted. “I don’t know that I would sing along to the whole soundtrack out loud, especially not somewhere my dad or Finn might hear, but it was good.” 

“Told you.” Sebastian kissed him gently. “You want to go take pictures in the lobby with the cast?” 

“You just want pictures of me blushing surrounded by naked men.” 

“Would you expect anything else of me?” 

"Of course not," Kurt said. "But this is the closest you'll get to some kind of orgy fantasy with me in it." 

"Don't worry, babe. I don't like to share what's mine."

**Author's Note:**

> Incredible thanks to my amazing artist [soseinen](http://soseinen.tumblr.com), my favorite slave driver [rareje](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rareje), and my cheerleader/miracle beta [two-headlights-shinee](http://two-headlights-shinee.tumblr.com).


End file.
